


Enemy of my Enemy

by Mistweaver (Pan_demo_nium)



Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, Nathaniel joins the resistance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 06:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pan_demo_nium/pseuds/Mistweaver
Summary: “I stole it,” Nathanael said quietly. “I stole it because he hurt me, and I wanted to hurt him back.”“You’re in luck,”  Stanley said with a grim smile. “We do know someone who might be able to give you a pretty good price and a place to stay for a few days… and if you’re so inclined, help you out on that last bit…





	Enemy of my Enemy

**_Nathaniel_ **

_**1**   _

A chill wind blew through the shattered window panes, and Nathaniel shivered and sneezed.  A dull grey light shone, illuminating the broken building he had taken shelter in after the nightmarish chase of the previous night. Nathaniel had collapsed to the floor, too exhausted to go on, despite the djinni’s harshly whispered commands. In a burst of exhaustion and anger, he had dismissed the djinni on the spot and had curled up into a corner. 

The icy night air had prevented Nathaniel from getting any real sleep and any outside noises had always startled him awake, visions of flames and Lovelace’s jackal-headed demon swimming before his eyes. 

 Nathaniel’s breath plumed out in front of him and, he let out a rattling cough. He might have lain there forever, consumed by the biting chill, had it not been for the ever-growing ache of hunger.  London was waking up and the enticing smells of a dozen different shops wafted through the broken window, and his stomach growled. 

Any other day Mrs. Underwood would be tapping on his door to wake him, there would be hot tea on the landing floor and then breakfast with Mrs. Underwood humming in the kitchen.

But it was all gone, all burned to ashes and Mrs. Underwood gone with it. Mrs. Underwood was-

Nathaniel’s face crumpled and two hot tears were squeezed from his eyes. He hastily dragged his sleeve across his face, trying to stop the tidal wave of grief that threatened to consume him. Think. He had to think of a plan, had the figure out what to do or...Phantom flames danced before his tired eyes, and in them, he saw the silhouette of a jackal's head.

From a distant memory, Underwood’s voice seemed to whisper to him:  _ The only bad magician is an incompetent one.  _ And incompetence was nothing but loss of control.

But lessons like that seemed far off and meaningless in the face of all that Nathaniel had lost. Mrs. Underwood was... Mrs. Underwood was dead and his Master too, and the house and the garden, all gone up in flames and it was all his fault.

A sob racked Nathaniel’s chest and he broke into tears, burying his head in his hands. There was nothing he could do. He had tried to save his master but the man had died anyway, cowering behind his apprentice. He had tried to pull Mrs. Underwood from the fire but he had been too late to save her. Lovelace had gotten away with the amulet and would now send his demons after Nathaniel himself.

There was nowhere to run and no one to turn too. He didn’t even have Bartimaeus and he cursed himself for the rash dismissal. There was no way he could summon the djinni now, not in his current state.

His tears ebbed, leaving behind a hollow empty feeling. He swiped his sleeve across his face, before shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. His fingers brushed smooth metal, and  Nathaniel started. He pulled out his bronze scrying glass and stared at it in amazement. A fierce surge of hope exploded inside him. 

Nathaniel straightened, and wiped his eyes once more, before muttering the invocation. Or tried to. His voice came out weak and raspy, and his throat burned. He let out another hacking cough before speaking again.

It took three more tries before the imp appeared spinning round and round, making Nathaniel's eyes hurt. 

“Stop that!” 

The imp looked mildly surprised, but came to an abrupt stop.  “Ain’t you dead?”

“No.”

“You sure? You don’t look so hot Boss”

“Shut up” Nathaniel snapped, his temper flaring. “I have a job for you. I…” He trailed off into silence, the reality of his situation once again settled over him. He had no master, no home, demons likely after him, and he had dismissed his only useful slave. The hope that had sparked to life in him, snuffed out.

The baby coughed awkwardly. “...Boss?...” Nathaniel threw the disk face down on the dirty floor, trying to calm the rising panic within him. For the first time in his life, he had absolutely no idea what to do.  His growling stomach quickly settled that decision. He still had the pocket change that he had taken from Mrs. Underwoods jar. 

Thinking of her sent a pang of grief through him, and his anger boiled. He would avenge her, Nathaniel promised himself bitterly. He would kill Simon Lovelace. But first, he needed food. Muscles protesting, he stood, slid the scrying glass back into his pocket, and hobbled into the streets of London.

* * *

  
  
**_2_ **

“T _imes!_ Morning edition!”

Nathaniel’s eyes shot up to spot the paperboy wheeling his cart through the crowd of people. He was still a ways off and was going slowly,  Nathaniel curled his hand around the small handful of coins in his pocket and eyed the stacks of papers on the boy’s cart. He had planned to spend all his money on food, he had never been so hungry, but he also needed information. 

He hesitated for the briefest second, before slipping out of the alleyway towards the paperboy. The crowd of people made him nervous and jumpy. His lenses allowed Nathaniel to see on to the second and third plane, but any demon Lovelace would send after him would almost certainly be able to cloak themselves on all the lower planes. Anyone of these people might be demons in disguise and Nathaniel would never know. 

Nathaniel hunched over, trying to hide his face. Hands in his pockets, he held his money and scrying glass in a tight grip. Reaching the paperboy, he called out in what he thought was a commanding voice.  _ “The Times _ . How much is it?”

“Forty pence, kid.” Nathaniel counted out the money and held it out. The boy took it and handed him a paper. The boy glanced at him, then did a double take, his eyes flicking towards Nathaniel’s trouser pocket. Nathaniel skin prickled. He went to move on but the boy spoke.

“You look rough chum. Been out all night?”

“No.” Nathaniel hoped it hadn’t sounded as shrill and defensive to the paperboy as it had to himself. He began to edge away, hoping the boy would take the hint. He didn’t.

“Course you ain’t, course you ain’t,” The Paperboy was being far too cheerful for Nathaniel’s liking. “And I wouldn’t blame you if you had. Although...” Here he leaned nearer to Nathaniel conspiratorially. “You ought to be more careful with the curfew on. Police are sniffing around more than usual.” 

Nathaniel frowned “Curfew?”

The boy’s eyes widened “Where’ve you been, kid? After than  _ disgraceful  _ attack on Parliament, there’s been an eight o’clock curfew all this week.” The boy shrugged “Won’t do nothing, but the search spheres are out and the Night Police too, so you’ll want to hole up before they find and eat you.”

Vague memories came flooding into Nathaniel’s head. Being woken up in the dead of night by howls. His Master's disdain for the violent brutish police chief and his pack of wolves. Nathaniel shivered and the paperboy’s eyes gleamed. 

“Tell you what,” He said, speaking quieter, and leaning in even more. “I could find you a good place to shelter tonight. It’s safe and the spot to go-” He glanced up and down the street, “-If you’ve got anything to sell.” His eyes once again flicked to Nathaniel's pocket.

A growing suspicion was now replacing his fear, and Nathaniel finally found his voice. “Thank you, I haven’t.” He said stiffly, and sped off away from the boy, holding even more tightly to the disk in his pocket.  Against his better judgment, Nathaniel glanced back and the boy and met his eyes. Flushing he turned away, and sped up even faster, all the while feeling the boys burning gaze.

  
  


It wasn’t until Nathaniel had returned to the abandoned building, less hungry and somewhat less cold, that he unfolded the newspaper. The article was on page two, only three columns long. It had noted the death of Internal Affairs Minister Author Underwood and his wife Martha, and expressed the deep regret of the Government, to lose such a devoted civil servant.

The cause of the fire was unknown, though the Police were now searching for John Mandrake, Underwoods apprentice who’s body had not been received and had been reported running from the scene. Lovelace had not been mentioned at all.

Nathaniel dropped the paper and rubbed his eyes. The Night Police would never believe him and if found,  Nathaniel would almost certainly be arrested. If Lovelace didn’t kill him first.

Pulling out the bronze disk, Nathaniel passed his hand over it and muttered the invocation. The imp appeared as the baby an indignant scowl on its face. It opened its mouth to speak but Nathaniel cut it off. “Imp,” He said curtly. “Find Simon Lovelace”

The baby’s nose wrinkled “Do you have a death wish-”

“Be off!” Nathaniel snarled and dropped the disk to the floor. He still had no idea what to do even if the imp managed to find Lovelace.  It was gone for far longer than Nathaniel had anticipated, and his eyes began to burn with weariness, and his head leaned against the wall. He would just shut his eyes, just for a minute…

A loud “ _ Oi _ !” startled Nathaniel awake, and he jumped to his feet expecting the jackal-headed demon to come bursting through the door any second. It took a few seconds before he realized the voice had come from the disk on the floor. Feeling foolish he retrieved it.

The imp looked amused “Did I wake you up?” It asked with mock surprise. “Oh, I do so humbly apologize, I didn’t realize-”

“Shut up!” Fear fueled his rage and he had to reign in the urge to chuck the disk at the wall.  Nathaniel shut his eyes and forced himself to calm down. “Did you find Simon Lovelace.”

The baby shrugged “Sort of-Oi! Hold on a second!” Nathaniel had raised his hand in warning. “I got as close as I could. Not my fault he’s surrounded by maximum security”

Nathaniel frowned “Maximum security?”  
“Never seen a place as heavily guarded as this one. Huge manor, fifty miles south of London. It’s got hair-trigger nexus, randomly materializing sentries. They sensed me soon as I arrived, had to skedaddle straight away.” The baby faded away and was replaced by a blurry image with a large building in the distance. “Best image I could get. How’s that?”

Nathaniel had sagged at these words. “Absolutely useless!” He cried with frustration “There’s no way to get to him now!” 

“Aw come on Boss, a big bad magician like you? Surely you’ve got any number of spirits at your beck and call.” Nathaniel said nothing. “No…? Or what about that Bartimaeus? No that's right, he’s dead in the Tower. Such a  _ shame.” _

This stirred Nathaniel. “Bartimaeus is not dead.”  He said stiffly “I dismissed him”

The baby goggled at him in disbelief “You’re  _ joking _ ” It said in stupefaction. “No,  __ I must be wrong, you haven’t got enough of a sense of humor for that.” Nathaniel glared at it. “Well if you are feeling such generosity, you might let us go too? It's been so long since I was home-”  

Nathaniel shoved the disk back into his pocket, muffling the imp’s protests. A chill wind blew through the broken window and he shivered. Dusk had come and the sun had gone taking its warmth with it.  He once again felt the urge to just lie down and rest but he was hungry again and cold and he had no more money.

Traitorously his mind drifted back to the paperboy and his strange fascination with Nathaniel. It was almost like he knew about the scrying glass.  _  “ I could find you a good place to shelter tonight.  _ The boy had said _ “It’s safe and the spot to go... if you’ve got anything to sell” _

Nathaniel’s fingers curled protectively around the bronze disk. He hated to even consider it, especially since he was almost certain that the boy belonged to the same resistance that had attacked the Prime Minister not so long ago. Still...It wasn’t like they would even be able to work it if he did sell it to them, and he was so very hungry…

Standing, Nathaniel made his way out of the building. He stood on the same street only waiting for a few minutes before the same boy and his cart reappeared, shouting “ _ Times!  _ Evening edition!” He approached the boy warily. Hearing his approach the paperboy turned and grinned.

“You again? Still out on the streets” 

“Yes,” Nathaniel was uncomfortable and unsure of how to proceed. There was silence. 

The boy coughed. “So you here to buy a paper?”

“No,” Nathaniel said, “I-you were right.” He leaned in “I do have... something to sell, if you can help me…?.” 

The boy’s grin widened “Your lucks in” he said “I know some people, and can arrange for  a meeting”

“You said you could get me a place to stay,” Nathaniel said, trying to keep the desperation from his voice.

“So I did, and I’m a man of my word. I’ve just gotta meet up with my mate and then we’ll get you sorted.”

“I’ll wait here then,” Nathaniel said uneasily

“Nonsense, he’s just around the corner, near the Nag’s Head. You can just come with me, won’t take to long” Nathaniel didn’t move. The paperboy shook his head and lowered his voice “We’re not looking for trouble kid. We just need to take a look at what you’ve got. See what it's worth. Can’t do that out here in the open”

“Alright” Nathaniel reluctantly let himself be led onto a side street and around the next corner. They stopped beside an ugly old inn where a Vigilante Sphere hung ominously in midair. Nathaniel eyed it warily.  

They then ducked in through a narrow alley. A tall youth stood there leaning against the wall, eating an apple.

“Hello Fred,” The Paperboy said, “I’ve brought a chum to see you.” Fred eyed Nathaniel up and down, and Nathaniel’s skin crawled. “He’s got something to sell”

Fred’s interest seemed to grow.  He straightened and tossed the apple core away. “Has he got it with him?”

“He does,” The paperboy said “It’s in his left trouser pocket” He nudged Nathaniel. “Show us what you’ve got.” 

Nathaniel reached into his pocket and grasped the disk, but didn’t pull it out. “How did you know I had it?” He asked, trying to sound more confident that he felt. “I never took it out, you couldn’t have seen it.”

The paperboy shrugged “Didn’t need to” He nudged Nathaniel again and Nathaniel reluctantly drew out the disk and passed it to him. The taller boy turned it over in his hands, examining it.

“What’d you think Stanley” Fred asked 

“Modern” Stanley said. “But  _ very  _ crudely done. Homemade if I had to guess. Nothing special, but worth having.” He passed it to Fred.

Nathaniel was fidgeting, not having the disk made him anxious. It was all he had left. “Is it valuable?” He asked in what he hoped was a calm curious voice. “It’s just...I badly need the cash”

“Oh, yeah,” Stanley said “It can be useful in the right hands”  His gaze met Nathaniel’s. “What’s your name kid?”

“John” Nathaniel lied, feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck “...Lutyens. John Lutyens.”

“Ooo Lutt-chens. Aren’t we posh. So John, how did you get a hold of this” He proffered the bronze disk.”

Nathaniel swallowed. “I stole it” 

The two paperboys exchanged a look. “All on your lonesome?” Stanley said skeptical “No offense John, but it's no mean trick stealing from a Magician.”

“And there are far easier people to steal from,” Fred said, his eyes boring into Nathaniel’s. “If it's money you’re after.”

Nathaniel struggled not the squirm under their stare. He forced himself to meet their gaze. “I stole it” Nathanael said quietly. “I stole it because he hurt me, and I wanted to hurt him back.” 

The two boys exchanged another look and then nodded. They turned back to Nathaniel. “You’re in luck,”  Stanley said with a grim smile. “We do know someone who might be able to give you a pretty good price and a place to stay for a few days… and if you're so inclined, help you out on that last bit. Come along with us and we can arrange a meeting.”

Nathaniel briefly considered the cold empty building that he had spent the last night and day, filled with uncertainties and danger, before giving a brief nod “Lead the Way”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
